


Recalling the Durin Folk

by Bofur1



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Poetry, Post BoFA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 10:40:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Bofur1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Balin grieves for Thorin and his nephews.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recalling the Durin Folk

 

I feel death in my heart, a sinking feeling, the ache in my chest.

The tears running down my face, union of salt and sweet—I taste them.

 

I sit in my chamber, weeping for the lost Durin folk…

And I recall.

 

Though my eyes see him no longer, my mind recalls his face.

Eyes majestic blue, filled with courage, valiance, and wisdom.

Though my ears can hear him no longer, my mind recalls his voice.

Rich, resonant, deep, and somber.

Though I can feel him no longer, my mind recalls his touch, his embrace.

Brief. Perhaps even shy.

 

I recall, too, his boys whom he so loved.

 

My mind recalls their faces, their voices, and their touch.

 

Eyes blue and brown: glowing, eager, and full of promise.

Voices filled with joy and happiness, ever laughing.

A fervent, unconstrained squeeze at greeting.

Love enough for all.

And yet, no love of theirs was as strong as that for their king.

 

I recall the wonder as they gazed into his face.

I recall the passion of their words as they exalted him.

I recall how viciously they protected him, until they dropped with exhaustion.

 

I recall the two brothers and their protector, whom they adored.

 

All three gone.

 

Recalling crushes my spirit, makes my heart crumble.

But my blurred vision still catches movement at the door.

My own brother.

He knows instantly why I lament.

By the tearstains on his face, I see he has been suffering also on this dark night.

He comes silently to my side, wraps me in his arms.

There we sit, each hurting in their own way.

 

There will be other nights of woe;

Other nights in which I will recall the princes we have lost.

I will ache inside as I recall the graves.

I will weep as I recall the cold, windswept earth and stone.

The earth and stone under which the Durin folk lie.

 

But as I lean against my brother, I recall something else.

I recall how grateful I am for what I still have.


End file.
